Mistletoe
by Quicksilvermad
Summary: Lacking a calendar, the others find themselves asking the tracker of the group if he can tell what time of the year it is.


_**Warnings:**_ AU future!fic  
><em><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>_ All rights for _The Walking Dead_ go to Robert Kirkman and AMC  
><strong><em>Author's Note:<em>** Part of the Christmas challenge. Join us over on **daryl-andrea**(**.livejournal**)(**.com**)

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><p>She used to hate Christmas.<p>

The commercials, the consumerism, Black Friday, the cold, and everything related to the holiday season generally irritated Andrea. But now that no one had a calendar on hand (Dale lost track about two months after the Greene farm), the information on what time of the year it was came from Daryl. All he had to do was look at the trees, check the stars at night, and cast some runes or something (Andrea had no idea what he actually did) and _poof._

"S'about late December. 'Round Christmas."

Then he grunted something incoherent and sauntered off into the woods again. Andrea's eyes (like always) automatically followed the easy sway of his hips and shoulders as he disappeared and she (like always) caught herself making a rather wanton noise low in the back of her throat.

She wondered what he looked like walking through the snow.

She decided she liked the idea of Christmas now that there weren't millions upon millions of people shoving the season in her face and screaming for her to be festive about it. Instead, she walked quietly beside Daryl and listened avidly as he explained how he knew the deer he was tracking was actually close. Her eyes took in the broken branches he spoke of and she saw something familiar growing the a gnarled, diseased oak tree they stood beneath.

"Huh," she said.

"What?"

She pointed at the parasitic plant overhead with her rifle. "That stuff looks familiar."

Daryl squinted up at it and let out a rare, genuinely amused, snort of laughter. The chill in the air made his breath expand around them in a thin white cloud. "I'll be damned," he said.

"What is it?" Andrea asked.

The smile on his face was something she'd been seeing more often lately. She admired how straight his teeth were and how the simple act made Daryl look ten years younger. The fact that he needed a haircut just added to the boyishly charming effect.

He pointed at the plant and leaned into Andrea's personal space. "That," he said with a slightly nervous snicker, "is mistletoe."

Andrea had a hard time suppressing the urge to stare at Daryl's face. She's never seen his eyes look so _blue_ and, contrary to her previous guessing, his usual habit of squinting didn't compare to the way his cheeks lifted now with his smile.

It took a while, but it finally dawned on Andrea that they were standing _directly beneath_ the clump of mistletoe. By the softened look in Daryl's gaze, she knew what he was about to do.

He gathered some faint courage along with a gust of cold air as he breathed in deeply before he shouldered his crossbow. Andrea smiled when he reached out and cupped her cheek in one of his large, callused hands and she couldn't look away when he leaned forward.

She tangled the fingers of her free hand in the longer hair on the back of Daryl's head and felt confidence swell inside her breast at the way he briefly slid his tongue across his lower lip. "I guess I should say 'merry Christmas,'" she whispered.

"Guess you should."

"Merry Christm-mmf!"

Andrea gripped his hair and leaned against his chest as he kissed her. His hands smoothed her hair around her ears and settled warmly on her neck and cheek. She let out a happy noise when he pressed his thumb against her chin to get her to open her mouth against his. It was wet, intense, and made her stomach buzz with excitement.

She was reluctant to let go of him, but pulled away to take a deep breath of the bracing cool air. Daryl kept smiling, twisted at the waist, and hopped up to grab a sprig of mistletoe from the tree. Andrea laughed when he tucked it in the pocket of his coat.

"For later," he said with a wink.


End file.
